


Loyalties

by stew (julie)



Category: The Professionals (TV 1977)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Gen, Rivalry, Suspicions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1990-10-01
Updated: 1990-10-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/stew
Summary: Someone in CI5 is passing on information they shouldn’t, and suspicion is starting to gather around Bodie. Neither Cowley nor Doyle want to believe it, but there’s no denying that Bodie isn’t himself lately – and an expensive new car and posh new girlfriend seem to provide a motive, or at least proof of a significant shift in priorities. Bodie, of course, suggests an entirely different suspect is to blame…
Relationships: William Bodie & Ray Doyle
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Loyalties

**Author's Note:**

> **First published:** in the zine “Backtrack” #3 by Joanne Keating in October 1990.

# Loyalties 

♦

Bodie carefully stepped over the last of the bodies, eyes scanning the gloom of the squat the three amateur terrorists had been hiding out in. He was good, the guy who killed them, Bodie had said morosely. 

“An expert,” Doyle agreed. “And cool. Out of their league.” 

“But he was someone they knew.” 

“Think so?” 

“These three killed Redfern. They had help, but they were still good enough to do the job. Good enough not to have let the guy in unless they knew him.” 

“Doesn’t look like there was a fight, either. This woman’s the only one who drew a gun.” 

“They trusted him; he took them by surprise. It was the guy who set up the Redfern job in the first place, I reckon. It wasn’t their idea. They made it look political, but this guy put them up to it. And he didn’t want them implicating him.” 

Doyle looked over at his partner. “But Redfern was killed over a week ago. Why wait until now to dispose of the evidence?” 

“He knew we were close behind him.” 

“No… they’ve been dead a couple of hours, no more than that. It’s coincidence that we walked in on it so soon afterwards.” 

“Coincidence? No such thing,” Bodie scoffed absently. An involuntary shudder ran through him as he fought a ludicrous sense of déjà vu. “He knew we’d be here.” 

“You know what you’re saying?” Doyle’s voice sharpened to break through Bodie’s inattention. “This investigation has been as subtle as we’re ever able to get. We came in here thinking we’d take them completely by surprise. But you think the guy who killed them knew, within a matter of hours, when we’d arrive.” 

Bodie shrugged uncomfortably. “Instincts. That’s what it all _feels_ like.” 

“Yeah. The trouble is, we thought we’d be closing the case, and now we find it’s wide open again. There’s another guy out there that we need to get. And in a hurry.” 

“Let’s get out of here, Ray. Let the cops go over the place. Not that they’ll find anything; he was too good.” 

“We’ll see.” Then Doyle had to jog a few steps to catch up with his partner. “Bodie! What’s bothering you?” 

The man shrugged. “Something familiar about all this,” he muttered, more to himself than Doyle. The odd sense of almost being responsible for those neatly placed bullet holes in each chest: one, two, three, just so. The uncomfortable admiration for the cool, self-interested efficiency of it all. “Something very wrong.” 

“You’re telling me.” Doyle swung into the Capri’s driver’s seat, radioed the situation to Control, then he sat watching Bodie for a while. “Well, when you’ve worked it out, sunshine, just let me know,” he said. But Bodie didn’t even hear him. Doyle, reluctantly growing used to his partner’s recent dissatisfactions and introspections, heaved a sigh and shut up. 

♦

The pair walked into CI5’s rest room just in time for one of Lloyd’s skilfully delivered punchlines. The only response to it was Pennington’s longsuffering groan. “God, that was foul. Where on earth did you hear it?” 

“Bodie’s mother, of course. She tells me all the good ones.” 

Doyle shot his partner a worried look that couldn’t hide his own amusement, but Bodie was pouring them each a cup of tea, stoically ignoring both Lloyd and the stifled chuckles coming from behind Murphy’s newspaper. “Don’t encourage him, Murph,” Doyle chastised. 

“Found the people who shot Redfern,” Bodie said flatly. “They were amateurs, Lloyd. Shouldn’t have been able to get to him through you and Penn.” 

Lloyd came to stand by Bodie, leaning in close, his bulk seemingly born to intimidate. Doyle watched them uneasily, the pair virtually mirror images but for Lloyd’s darker hair, taller build and funereal clothes. “Of course they were amateurs,” Lloyd hissed in Bodie’s ear. “Only amateurs get caught.” 

“Killed, not caught. They’d been executed. Someone else was behind the Redfern job. Someone good.” 

“Then it wasn’t our fault they got through, was it?” 

“Maybe,” Bodie allowed, deliberately not reacting as Lloyd continued to hang over him. “Where were you, anyhow? Doyle called in the address. Cowley wanted you there for the bust.” 

Lloyd smiled. And then he whispered, “Had some business to take care of.” 

“Come on, Lloyd, you promised me a drink,” Pennington said, standing. 

After a long moment, Lloyd eased away from Bodie and followed his partner out of the room. “See you, kids.” 

“I should have killed him when I had the chance,” Bodie said. “If Macklin hadn’t stopped me… I was _this_ close to doing it with my bare hands.” 

Murphy laughed. “No wonder the Cow pulled you out of helping train the new recruits. Actually, Lloyd reminds me of you when you were young, Bodie. Ten years ago, maybe.” 

“ _Seven_ years younger,” Bodie insisted. “He’s twenty-five.”

“Very helpful, Murph,” Doyle said. “Come on, Bodie, you and Lloyd got in enough trouble over that fight of yours without you still wanting to finish him off six months later.” 

“Should have done it then. If _I_ couldn’t get away with a crime of passion, no one could.” 

“Cowley’s getting tired of your little feud, you know.” 

“I’m no part of it!” Bodie burst out angrily. “You saw how the sleaze was carrying on just then.” 

“Yeah,” said Murphy. “Almost as obnoxious as you when you first joined the mob. You must have mellowed over the years.” 

“Shut up, Murph.” 

Doyle drank down his tea. “We’re off duty, Bodie, unless those cops find anything at the squat. Let’s go have a night on the tiles, wipe out a few brain cells. Going to be a heavy day tomorrow.” 

“Thanks, but I’m meeting Amanda.” 

“Take my advice and try to sound a little more thrilled, mate. She’s the posh one, right? The one with the sense to lead with a good right hook when you misbehave?” 

“That’s her. And _she’s_ not what I’m not thrilled about.” 

Doyle watched as Bodie set aside his tea, gave him a nod and walked out. He sat silent for a long while. “Murph,” Doyle finally said as lightly as he could, “is it simply my imagination, or has something gone strange with Bodie?” 

“It’s not your imagination, Ray.” 

“Wrong answer, mate.” And Doyle went to sign off and make his lonely way home. 

♦

Having changed into a good suit and the best smile that he could muster in honour of the occasion, Bodie walked to the Red Lion to meet Amanda Payten. She was sitting there in CI5’s local pub, looking totally unselfconscious but charmingly out of place. Bodie smiled, knowing that for all her well-bred appearance, Amanda could (and would) rough it with the worst of them. Then his smile fell as he realised that Lloyd had just bought her a drink. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bodie asked the man in exasperation. 

“Public bar, isn’t it? Just enjoying this lovely young lady’s company.” 

“The lovely young lady is with me. Go enjoy poor Penn’s company.” 

“We could all have a drink together,” Amanda suggested. 

Bodie chose to take this as simply a friendly offer to help patch up the situation. “No, sweetheart, we’re due at the restaurant in half an hour, and Lloyd has better things to do than ruin my evening.” 

“Don’t bet on it,” Lloyd said to Amanda. “When you’ve finished running this old man ragged, love, you know where I’ll be.” 

Amanda smiled coolly. “I’m sure it will take me _years_ to run Bodie ragged,” she said politely, “and by that time I’ll no doubt be run ragged myself.” And Bodie swept her out the door before Lloyd could incite either of them to a brawl. 

“There are _some_ CI5 agents who would not take a lady giving them a bloody nose the first time they met with the same sense of humour that I did.” Bodie smiled up at her, then let his eyes wander back down her tall and elegant frame. “I see you’ve worn your high heels again,” he observed. 

“I didn’t believe you were really so easily intimidated,” she archly replied. 

Bodie just laughed and opened the door of his car for her, happily anticipating a re-discovery of Amanda’s corporeal delights, from the smooth, pampered skin, to the longest, finest muscles that he’d ever had the pleasure of finding on a woman. But later, back at Amanda’s flat, he was almost glad when Doyle’s voice sounded over the R/T. “Whatever you’re doing will have to keep, 3.7. The cops have finished turning over the squat. Alpha wants us to report in.” 

“Meet you at HQ, then. Sorry, love,” he said to Amanda, though she didn’t seem too heartbroken at him leaving. 

“Must be getting old,” Bodie later greeted Doyle with. “Losing my touch. Lloyd was chatting up Amanda down the Red Lion when I got there, and I swear she was thinking of him all night.” 

“You mean _you_ were thinking of him.” Doyle shook his head. “This is getting ridiculous.” 

“If everyone would stop comparing him to me…” 

“Why, because you come out looking worse?” 

“Hell, no. He’s nothing like me. You don’t know him.” 

“And you do?” 

“The things he tells me – _confides_ in me, for god’s sake. I reckon he’s just this side of crazy. Like Tommy in some ways. Remember Tommy? Dangerous. Makes you wonder if he’s chosen the wrong side.” 

Doyle looked Bodie over sceptically. “If this wasn’t so silly, I’d start worrying about you. Like a pair of brats squabbling over who gets to play in the sandbox, you two are.” 

When they got to Cowley’s office their boss looked up at them in frustrated anger. “The police found nothing except the bullets used,” he informed Doyle and Bodie. “Nothing!” 

“So why did you ask us to come in, sir?” Bodie asked with a great deal of patience. 

“The man’s good, extremely good. The three bullets were standard army issue. What does that tell you?” 

“That we’re in trouble, sir.” 

Cowley glared at the pair before him. “Start going through the files. Anyone who’s in that league – _anyone_ ,mind – pull their record and confirm their current whereabouts. You’ll probably have to call Interpol for updated information. Tell them it’s a priority. Concentrate on those with an army background.” 

“Yes, sir.” Doyle led Bodie out of the office and down the hall. “And for this you miss out on the lovely Amanda.” 

Bodie looked glum. “Think I was going to miss out on her anyway,” he confessed. He looked around at the filing cabinets and blank computer screens as they wandered through Records. “Christmas came early,” Bodie muttered sarcastically. 

♦

Having drawn a blank on their investigation after four days of solid effort, Bodie and Doyle were assigned to help out Murphy with observing a house rumoured to be the headquarters of an arms dealer. Within two days the three agents had decided that a raid was definitely in order. 

But as they set up, it quickly became obvious that the arms dealer had been tipped off. Bodie was waiting behind hedges in front of the house, while Doyle crept behind the cars parked in the next house’s driveway. Murphy was circling around to the back of the house, with Lloyd and Pennington and another pair of agents to each side. CI5 was due to strike on the hour. But over two minutes before that, shots rang out. 

Bodie immediately leapt the hedges, trusting Doyle to cover him as planned, and headed for the front door. It was while he was running a swift zigzag across the small but open lawn that a bullet grazed his left shoulder. He automatically returned fire in the seconds before he was safe again, then he paused to draw breath. Doyle appeared from behind the cover of the cars and ran crouching along the front of the house to join him. “You all right?” 

“Flesh wound,” Bodie dismissed the concern with mock seriousness. “Continue as planned.” 

“On Murph’s signal, then,” Doyle agreed, rigging a small pack of explosives against the door’s locks. “Hell, hope we can salvage this. Cowley’s going to sack the lot of us. Have to submit to an investigation with all the trimmings at least.”

But Bodie wasn’t listening to his partner’s curiously mild complaints during the few moments it took Murphy to gain his own position. Even the sharp flame of the wound along his shoulder couldn’t distract Bodie. Because he knew that the bullet that hit him had come from outside the house, and only Lloyd and Pennington were meant to be there. And though he had to admit that, with the wild card of the tip-off, it could have been anyone shooting at him, the incident seemed to spell trouble. 

The quiet static of the open R/T was interrupted by Murphy’s voice. “Stay there, 3.7! They’re coming out firing.” 

Doyle moved to gain a better shot at the front door, but from the noise over the R/T and the gunfire they could hear, all the action was at the back of the house. 

“I’m going round there,’” Bodie said. 

“No, you’re not. They already winged you once.” 

“I’ll take a look,” Bodie said, and ran for the corner of Lloyd and Pennington’s side of the house. He didn’t see anything when he carefully peered round the corner, so he waved at an annoyed Doyle and started walking along the house at a crouch. 

Lloyd appeared down at the other end and shot at him. 

Shot past him. 

Bodie knelt, ready to return fire by instinct alone, his brain belatedly telling him that he would have been dead right now if he’d been Lloyd’s target. He turned to see that an armed woman behind him had been neatly blown away. 

“The party’s over,” Lloyd said over the R/T. “Go round the front; we’ll work our way through the place, and let you in if it’s clear.” 

Bodie returned to Doyle’s side, closing his R/T. “Patronising son of a bitch. _We’ll let you in if it’s clear._ ” 

“What was the shot?” 

“God-damned bastard. Bird must have come out of a window behind me. Lloyd shot her… Thought he was shooting at me for a minute. Fucking well missed my second chance to do him away.” 

“Bodie… I could kill you myself sometimes. He’s good, you idiot. Just saved your skin for you, didn’t he?” 

“Big of him.” 

“I should know better than to reason with you when you’re hurting,” Doyle observed. 

“It’s nothing,” Bodie said, but Doyle just grinned at him, knowing full well how hot the wound across his shoulder would be feeling by now, and how it would sting. 

There were two more shots from inside the house before Murphy finally opened the front door and invited them through. “They knew we were coming,” Murphy stated the obvious, his smile grim. 

“And the big fish had time to get away?” Doyle asked. At Murphy’s weary nod, he called the situation in to Control so that Cowley could set up whatever roadblocks he thought were necessary. 

“There must have been others who scattered, and we caught the tail end of them,” Murphy went on. “Penn’s found a tidy lot of merchandise in the cellar, but the office upstairs was virtually bare.” 

“Great. Well, if you’ve got everything in hand, Murph, I’m taking this one to the nearest outpatients.” 

“Don’t go to so much trouble on _my_ account,” Bodie protested sarcastically. “Dettol and a Band Aid back home will do fine.” 

Doyle rolled his eyes heavenward in a vain prayer for patience while the lone Murphy laughed unsympathetically. “If you don’t shut up soon, I won’t kiss it better,” Doyle told Bodie, and escorted him by force to their car parked two blocks down the road. “Just a big kid, you are,” Doyle complained. “Don’t know why I keep forgetting; you remind me often enough.” 

At the hospital Bodie sat naked to the waist on an examination table, the angrily swollen welt on his shoulder matching the livid expression on his face. Doyle sat on a chair in the tiny curtained cubicle with him, watching his oblivious partner with some curiosity and a great deal of worry. “Looks like you’re jealous of him,” Doyle said after a while. As Bodie’s blank gaze swung to him, Doyle elaborated. “Lloyd. He’s a little younger; a little faster; a little closer to the edge…” 

“He’ll never be as good,” Bodie broke in. 

“He wants to be. When Lloyd first met you on that training course…” Doyle let out a laugh. “I’ve never seen such a bad case of hero worship.” 

_“That_ implies respect. Lloyd doesn’t know what the word means.” Bodie shrugged. “Back then, I thought he had potential. At least, I could see why Cowley took him off the army’s hands. Now I think the Cow made a mistake.” 

Doyle drew in a mock-scandalised breath before laughing again. “Never mind, Bodie,” he said reassuringly. “You’re still Cowley’s blue-eyed boy.” 

“Cut the crap, Ray. This is serious.” 

“Hey, it’s true we’re not getting any younger, you know. Bound to be new blood wanting to take our place. We can be a little graceful about it, Bodie.” 

“For Christ’s sake, I’m not jealous of the prat. The last thing between me and Lloyd is jealousy.” Doyle shrugged indifferently and Bodie knew that he hadn’t convinced him. “Did you happen to see where this bullet hit me from?” he asked casually. 

Doyle wasn’t interested. “The house. I assumed front window on the left, ground floor.” 

“That’s what you’ll put in your report, then?” 

“Yeah. Why? Where do you think it came from?” 

Bodie shrugged. “Happened too quickly. Front window makes sense.” He frowned and lay down along the exam table so that Doyle couldn’t see his face. 

“You all right, mate? Not going to pass out on me, are you?” 

“I’m all right.” And Bodie vaguely tried to remember the last time he’d lied to his partner, and if it had ever felt this foolish back then. 

♦

The shoulder wound meant five days on light duties, but Bodie was in the right mood to be left alone with the files and computers, and to relinquish his partner to Murphy so that they could continue to work on the arms dealer without him. In just the right mood, despite the fact that Lloyd started to visit him in Records at odd times of the day. 

“Brought you a cup of tea, mate,” Lloyd said the first time, carefully setting down the brimming mug beside Bodie’s keyboard. “You still after that guy behind the Redfern job?” 

“You know I am. Along with all the other paperwork the Cow has been saving up to give to me.” 

Lloyd chose to ignore Bodie’s obvious lack of welcome. “What have you got so far?” He pulled a chair over to sit beside the desk, facing Bodie. 

“You’ve read the file.” After a moment, Bodie grudgingly relented. “He was an expert; one of the best. Possibly with an army background. Motivation for him was money. A number of groups might have wanted Redfern dead, but few would be able to afford these kind of services. No one’s claimed responsibility, and no one’s talking.” 

“An expert with an army background… A bloody good shot, too, from those bodies you found.” 

“Ruthless with it. And he knew more about the security we provided for Redfern than he should have. Otherwise those three who did the job would never have got through.” 

“And then he knew that you were closing in on them.” Lloyd returned Bodie’s stare for a long moment. He said, sounding amused, “You know, Bodie, _you’re_ an expert with an army background.” 

“So are you, Lloyd.” 

“Maybe you and I should head the list of suspects. Particularly you, perhaps… Once a mercenary…” 

“I don’t fit the profile. Money was never my only motivation,” Bodie said flatly. “What about yours?” 

“All good and generous intentions, I am. Uncle George knows that I have a heart of gold beating in here.” 

“Sure.” Bodie finished his tea and turned back to his files. “You hear the latest?” he asked casually. “The cops turned up something at that squat after all. The guy wasn’t as clever as he thought he was.” 

“No?” Lloyd’s expression of mild interest remained fixed, although Bodie didn’t even bother looking at him directly. “What did they find?” 

Bodie’s smile stretched into malevolence. “That’s classified, mate.” 

Lloyd sat there beside the desk, considering him. “Pity about that shoulder,” he commented at last. 

“Yeah… the guy wasn’t as good a shot as he thought he was,” Bodie responded. 

“Oh, I imagine you were running at the time, the old duck and weave, or he’d have finished the job he started.” 

“I imagine so.” 

Lloyd finally stood. “See you round, Bodie.” 

“Not if I see you first.” But Bodie grinned up at him as if to take the sting out of the words, handing Lloyd the empty mug. “Thanks for the tea, mate.” 

“Any time.” 

Bodie watched Lloyd walk out, then leant back comfortably in his chair to muse over what the agent had and hadn’t said. There was nothing Bodie could add to his report yet, that was the only sure thing; but to have his suspicions virtually confirmed was enough for now. 

After a while, mind wandering through various associations that he had no wish to examine in detail, Bodie remembered Amanda and he reached for the phone. A few minutes later, having set up a date for Friday, he left CI5 to make a call to his Swiss bank from a public phone box. When he returned he found a fresh piece of paper and a typewriter. Suspicions unsupported by proof couldn’t be filed or used by CI5, but Bodie was well aware that they could be communicated extremely effectively in the event of his untimely demise. 

♦

“Good god, it’s Prince Charming!” Doyle exclaimed when Bodie finally came to the door of his flat. 

“What do you want?” Bodie asked in his most ungracious tones. 

“Ask me in and I’ll tell you.” 

Bodie sighed but let his partner in. “I’m going out in ten minutes,” he warned, “so make it snappy.” He headed for the nearest mirror to perfect his bowtie. 

“What’s with the hired tux? Looks pretty damn classy. Going to a wedding or something?” 

“The suit is not hired; I bought it,” Bodie informed him in superior tones. “And, looking pretty damn classy as I undeniably do, I am about to escort the incredibly damn classy Amanda Payten to Monet’s, which is an exorbitantly damn classy restaurant that _you’ve_ probably never heard of. Apart from which, who on earth would hold a wedding at nine on a Friday night?” 

“Well, pardon me for being such a pleb.” Doyle circled him, looking him over in wonder. “I’ll have to meet this Amanda some day soon. Shatter her illusions about you.” 

“She’s far too good for _you,_ mate, so don’t go getting any funny ideas.” He confided facetiously, “Actually, I figure she’s about twenty-third in line for the throne of England.” 

Doyle shook his head. “It must be love. What a transformation. I would never have recognised you.” 

“Call it what you will,” Bodie declared pompously, looking into the mirror with a great deal of complacency. Then he shot a mistrustful glance at Doyle. “You’d better not be here about work.” 

“Don’t worry, your evening is safe. If Cowley calls, I’ll tell him you took her out for fish and chips. No… just haven’t seen you much over the last few days what with you hiding down in Records. Was going to take you down to the local for a drink or three.” 

“Sorry, mate, had a better offer.” 

“Maybe tomorrow? Knock off early for the afternoon and head up to the river like we used to?” 

Bodie looked away. “Don’t think I can get away,” he prevaricated. The uncomfortable silence was broken as they heard a car horn from the road below the block of flats. “Must be the pretty damn classy limo, old son. If you’d be good enough to find your own way out…” And, first collecting a small velvet-covered box and an enormous bunch of roses from the coffee table, Bodie sailed out through the door leaving a very bemused Doyle in his wake. 

♦

“It’s nice to feel you’re actually _with_ me, Bodie,” Amanda said over dessert. “While I enjoy your body’s company, it lacked a little animation and a lot of wit last time we had a date.” 

“Still suffering the same troubles, love, but tonight I have my priorities right.” 

“Hallelujah! And you left that troublesome R/T at home, I gather. Or should I keep praying that it won’t interrupt us?” 

“It’s at home. Against all the regulations, of course, but for you…” Bodie gave her his best and fondest smile. “So, did you finally tell your father about me?” 

“I told him… and then my daddy called your daddy to compare notes.” 

“Must have a phone line that reaches the afterlife, then.” 

“No, not the afterlife. Just George Cowley.” 

Bodie’s face fell. “And then they both warned you off me.” 

“Oh no,” Amanda laughed. “The thing you’ll quickly learn about daddy is that he’s still blithely applying teenage psychology to me, despite me being twenty-three. He’s very carefully _not_ warning me off you for fear I’ll rebel and elope with you.” 

“Now there’s a thought,” said Bodie. 

“Actually, I think they ended up agreeing that I have just enough good sense to make up for any lack of it in you.” 

“That would be right,” Bodie groaned. “Anyway, let’s not talk about them… I have a present for you. It’s not a ring, so don’t go panicking when you see the box. Just a small token of my economy-sized esteem.” 

Amanda, already glowing due to the champagne and roses, opened the box and gasped. “Bodie, you’re an absolute sweetheart.” 

“I was hoping you’d see it that way.” 

“Why are you doing all this?” she asked gently. “It’s wonderful being swept off my feet with such flair, but I get the impression that there’s something behind your determination.” 

“Tonight’s not the night for being serious… or maybe it is,” Bodie amended ruefully. He looked across at Amanda; admired again her poise and honesty. She was the first girl in far too long who had accepted him just as he was, who had taken him at all seriously. “I’m sinking for the second time, Amanda. I want to enjoy the good thing in my life while I can, and you deserve something for letting me do that. But if you don’t hear from me again, don’t get your father to ask Cowley what happened because I won’t want you to know.” 

Amanda was watching him carefully. After a while she said, “For you, Bodie, I’ll promise that. But for me… please look after yourself as well as you can.” And she reached across the table to hold his hand. 

♦

“I wanted to talk to you about Bodie,” Cowley said when Doyle reported to him as requested on Monday evening. 

Having guessed as much, Doyle shut Cowley’s office door behind him and settled into a chair for the duration. “Yes, sir.” 

“Tell me about him.” 

“Where do you want me to start?” 

“His recent behaviour.” 

“Maybe I’m not the best person to ask, sir. Haven’t seen much of him lately, and when I do, we don’t talk much.” 

“You’ll do for now, so quit prevaricating.” 

“All right…” Doyle decided to start with the most innocuous and see how far Cowley worked up from there. “Lloyd’s been giving him a hard time almost ever since they met. Bodie tries to shrug it off but Lloyd’s really starting to get to him lately. I think Bodie’s afraid of losing his spot at the top of the heap. He says that’s not it, but he won’t talk about it.” 

“His work hasn’t suffered,” Cowley said, “however, he seems to have become unaccountably dissatisfied and morose over the past few weeks. You’d agree?” 

“If it’s about Lloyd, Bodie will just have to realise this is inevitable. Give him time, he’ll come out of it.” 

“Why do you say that? Has he discussed any of this with you?” 

“No, sir,” Doyle was forced to admit. 

“Unusual for the pair of you,” Cowley observed thoughtfully. Then he said, “I understand that Bodie bought himself a new car on Saturday. A Triumph. A black TR7, no less.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And that he has been seeing Miss Amanda Payten. Quite a step up for Bodie, don’t you think? I believe he gave her a pair of diamond earrings on Friday night, while dining with her at Monet’s.” 

“You’ve had Bodie under surveillance?” Doyle asked in disbelief. 

“Little more than the regular monitoring for now.” Cowley stood and took his glasses off to gaze at what view he had from his window. “You see my trouble, I think, Doyle. I have two cases here – the Redfern assassination and its subsequent investigation, and the raid last week – where inside information has been leaked. I also have a dissatisfied agent with an aristocratic girlfriend to impress and expensive tastes in cars.” 

Doyle was silent for long moments. “I can’t believe that the two are connected,” he finally said. 

“You think not?” 

“There has to be another explanation. Bodie might not make a habit of thinking things through, but he’s not stupid enough to flash any ill-gotten gains around. Anyhow, he’s almost as single-minded about CI5 as you, sir. He’s the last person whose loyalty I’d doubt.” 

“I have been advised in the past not to employ people with mercenary or criminal backgrounds,” Cowley mused. 

“But he put that behind him, sir, years ago. When he joined the army, let alone CI5.” 

“How sure are you?” 

“I’m surer of Bodie than I am of you,” Doyle retorted. 

“But you’ll understand if I ask you to keep an eye on him.” 

Doyle glowered at him. “Under protest.” 

“I’ve no need to tell you again how vital it is to keep your own doorstep clean, Doyle. This is a serious situation that must be dealt with. CI5 must remain beyond reproach, and our reputation has already taken a blow with Redfern being assassinated while under our protection.” 

“I know, sir. But Bodie’s the best you’ve got. I _thought_ he was your favourite.”

“The reality is that I can trust no one. That shouldn’t surprise a former Detective Constable.” 

“And I suppose if your mother did CI5’s typing, you’d have her regularly vetted, too.” 

“Yes, I would,” Cowley agreed mildly. 

Doyle sighed and ran a hand back through his hair. “Sorry, sir. It’s just… not Bodie, sir. It might look bad, but I can’t believe it’s true.” 

“Your point of view tends towards the subjective in this case,” Cowley said, though he came close to echoing Doyle’s sigh. “Maybe you’d better have a drink.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Doyle stood, then went to pour them each a stiff scotch. “I gather that _I’m_ in the clear?” 

“For now.” Cowley blandly returned Doyle’s sharp glance, and took a glass from him. “You’ve complained to me before about the salary that CI5 agents receive. It’s a reasonable living, but no more than that, and this is why. I can’t employ anyone who is only in it for the money.” 

“Bodie’s in it because it’s what he’s good at.” 

“He was good at assassinations, too, and selling goods and information of all varieties.” 

“I still can’t… Aren’t there any other suspects?” 

“If there are, that’s classified information.” 

“Let me work on it, sir. I want to get this cleared up, as much as anyone.” 

“Exactly. I don’t think you’d be the most impartial investigator I could appoint. You can rest assured that I’m looking into other possibilities.” 

Doyle silently swallowed his scotch. “I suppose the fact that Bodie got shot during the raid doesn’t exonerate him.” 

“No. Placing the informant in the line of fire is too obvious a way of covering him from suspicion. Although, as he was hit, you could then assume that they were either very good or very poor shots. It’s more likely that only the arms dealer himself was aware of Bodie’s identity, and that the hit was an accident.” 

“Oh god,” Doyle groaned. “I hate this. You’ll make a note of that on the file, sir?” After putting the glass down, he walked to the office door. “Good night, then.” 

“Good night, Doyle.” Cowley poured himself another belt of scotch. And decided that he could live with CI5 assuming that Bodie was his favourite. Despite everything. 

♦

When his partner came to the door, Doyle said, “We have to talk.” 

Bodie was silent for a long moment as if weighing up his chances of avoiding this – then he said, “You’d better come in.” Doyle walked past him and he shut the door. “Want a beer?” 

“Thanks.” And they each stood uncomfortably in the kitchen, Doyle not knowing how to begin, and Bodie not wanting to. 

“Are we going to stand here all night?” Bodie finally asked. And, at Doyle’s glare, “What do we have to talk about that’s so damned important?” 

“You tell me, Bodie!” 

“How the hell should I know what’s bothering you?” 

“I’m trying to help you, you great pillock, seeing how you won’t help yourself.” 

“I don’t need your help, Doyle.” 

“You’ve got it, like it or not.” 

“Go home, why don’t you? I’ve been allowed out to play on my own for years now.” 

Doyle drew breath to retort, paused and let out a rueful laugh. “You don’t get rid of me that easy, my son.” He smiled, but Bodie wouldn’t respond. “You tell me what the problem is,” Doyle insisted. 

“No.” 

“We’re partners, Bodie. Since when did you shut me out?” 

“Not partners in everything.” Bodie looked away from Doyle’s searching gaze. “I’m alone on this one, mate. It’s best that way.” 

“Best for who?” 

“Both of us. You don’t want in on this.” 

“Why the hell not?” 

“Trust me on that,” Bodie said wearily. “If we’ve been partners, Ray, trust me this one time.” 

Doyle stared at him. “We’re still partners, and you owe me the truth.” 

“You wouldn’t believe me.” 

“Try me.” 

Bodie sighed. “You’re not going to get anywhere with me, Ray. Just leave it, will you?” 

“Where did you get the money for the car?” 

“What the hell has that to do with anything?” 

“What do you think? Information’s being leaked.” 

“And you think I’m responsible for it?” 

“It’s adding up that way. Tell me it’s not true.” When Bodie remained silent, Doyle continued, “You’re unhappy, shutting yourself off from me, from everyone at CI5, spending money like it’s going out of fashion. And what about Amanda? Your date on Friday must have cost a small fortune.” 

“Leave her out of it,” Bodie said, irritated. “She’s nothing to do with it.” 

“You’re making it too easy for people to make assumptions.” 

“And _you_ believe that’s it, Ray?” 

“Why else warn me away?” 

“It’s dangerous,” Bodie said as if it were obvious. 

“I imagine it would be,” Doyle retorted sarcastically. “You know, you once told me what you were in the mob for… Remember the Parsali job? That night before the hit, you said you were in it for the money.” 

“And you said I had to have a better reason than that.” 

“You couldn’t tell me one. Tell me one now,” Doyle challenged. 

“Forget it. Think what you want.” 

“It’s too late, Bodie. I’m not the only one who’s been wanting answers.” 

“Cowley? I thought I could at least count on you and Cowley.” 

“Wake up to yourself, Bodie. You can’t expect that after the last few weeks. Unless you tell me the truth now. I’m willing to be persuaded. Damn it…” Doyle mouthed a silent curse, before admitting, “I’m _eager_ to be persuaded.” 

“Get out of here, Doyle. Get out and leave me alone.” 

“You talk to me about it, and I’ll stay.” And he almost yelled, “Is that a simple enough offer for you, Bodie?” 

“I’m used to being alone. Work well that way.” 

“Not for years, mate, and you know it.” 

Bodie let out an unamused laugh. “All right, then, I’ll talk. But as soon as I say the magic word, you’ll stop taking me seriously.” 

“I said, try me.” 

“Lloyd.” 

“Christ,” Doyle sounded disgusted. _“That’s_ all it takes to drive you out of CI5?” 

Bodie shrugged. “Go away, Doyle,” he said flatly. 

“You’re mad. Cowley told me to keep an eye on you, and he’s not going to –”

“Do me one last favour – hold him off. Give me a couple of days. It won’t matter after that.” 

Doyle walked out of Bodie’s kitchen, through to the front door, and opened it. “OK.” 

“Ray. Going down for the third time, mate. Don’t want to take you with me.” 

“It doesn’t have to be that way.” But Doyle didn’t know which part of it he could change. 

“Yes, it does,” Bodie said, and he watched his partner walk out. The old feeling of uncomplicated singularity fell over him, and he shrugged into it, tried to feel comfortable in it. Deep somewhere within him was the hope that he’d come through this; that Doyle would take him back again; that things would be as they used to be in CI5; that he could reach for Amanda as more than a talisman against the darkness. But Bodie ruthlessly crushed all desire except that for revenge. Lloyd had brought him to this – and Lloyd would pay, no matter what the final cost to Bodie. 

♦

“OK, OK!” Lloyd called as the knocking continued. He stumbled into the second leg of his jeans and drew up the fly as he reached the door and squinted through the peephole. It took him a moment to recognise Bodie all dressed in black, then he quickly fumbled for the locks. “You’re going undercover to a bikers’ convention?” he guessed. 

Bodie pushed past the other agent, stalking once around the front room while Lloyd reset the locks. Lloyd turned to watch in silence, trying to read Bodie’s angry belligerence. 

“They suspect me,” Bodie finally ground out. “But it was you all along, wasn’t it?” 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Lloyd asked. “What are you _doing_ here?” 

“Don’t string me along, Lloyd. I want the truth this time. No more half confessions, no more hints. I want the whole story.” 

“Do you know what the hell time it is?” 

“Close after midnight. Appropriate time for storytelling, don’t you think?” 

“I don’t have the first idea what you’re on about –” Lloyd started angrily. 

“Yes, you do, you bastard.” 

“– but whatever it is can wait until tomorrow.” 

“It can’t. Cowley’s going to set up a formal investigation, and I’m the main suspect.” 

“For what?” Lloyd frowned at him. “What have you been up to?” 

“Don’t give me that baffled look. All the information that’s been leaking lately; the Redfern job, the arms dealer. It was you, but they think that it’s me. Virtually tried and convicted me already.” Then Bodie’s anger seemed to abruptly ebb away and he was left looking weary. He sat down to gaze up at Lloyd. “Just tell me, won’t you? Damned if I’m going to take a fall over this, but I won’t let you take one either. We have to work together.” 

Lloyd laughed. “I know you think I’m an absolute moron, but this is ridiculous. If your accusation is true, why the hell would I confess as much to you?” 

“You’ve been telling me about it for weeks. Because you knew I’d understand.” 

“But you don’t, do you?” Lloyd suddenly cried out. He turned, walked away for a moment, then ran his hands roughly across his head. “Damn you… you’re wearing a wire.”

Bodie stood, shrugged off his leather jacket, and pulled his sweater up to his shoulders for a moment. “No wire. Not even my gun. Just you and me. And the truth.” 

“Why should I trust you with the truth?” 

“Because we’re alike, Lloyd. Because you knew that from the start and I was too stupid to see it. Because you’re all I’ve got right now.” 

Lloyd stared at him, eyes wild. “What about Cowley? He thinks the sun rises and sets on your shoulder. And your precious partner? Till death do you part, I thought that was.” 

“They’re nothing to me. They don’t trust me, and I’ll give them good reason for it.” 

“You had everything that I didn’t,” Lloyd yelled, coming close to stand over him. “You’d found a place for yourself, people who accepted what you were. Do you have any idea what I’d give for that? And you expect me to believe that you’re throwing it away?” 

Bodie returned the gaze, forcing himself to let the man see the hurt within him. “They mean nothing to me,” he repeated. 

“So what are you going to do? And why come to me when you’ve treated me like dirt all this time?” 

“Tell me what you’re doing; let me join up with you. We’ll beat this investigation, then we can set up some real business. We’d be invincible, the two of us.” Bodie watched Lloyd, saw the betraying spark of hope. “How much did you get paid for the Redfern job?” he asked, with undisguised admiration. “Must have been a small fortune. That was good work.” 

“Ten grand.” Then Lloyd quickly turned away. “You’re making a fool of me.” 

Bodie stood and closed in on the man, controlling the situation with all the tricks that Lloyd had used on him, and more. “Trust me, Lloyd. We’ll be earning that every month if we set this up right.” 

“Trust you?” Lloyd repeated weakly. “When you’re betraying everyone who’s ever trusted you in the last six years?” 

“Haven’t you ever heard of honour among thieves? You and me, Lloyd, we’re the same. We couldn’t betray each other.” Bodie bore Lloyd’s searching gaze, then his sudden smile. Ruefully he admitted to himself that Doyle hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d called Lloyd’s feelings for him hero-worship. “Trust me, and we’ll be fine.” 

“Sorry, Bodie,” Lloyd said. “Too good to be true, you know? Saw it from the start, you’re right. Except that you belonged and I didn’t.” 

“And you were envious. Well, the others don’t count anymore.” Bodie swallowed hard and managed a friendly smile. “Let’s have a drink to celebrate. Could do with a drink, Lloyd.” And when they were settled again, “Don’t work from here, do you? Have some place you keep things safe in? Me, I’ve an old garage I keep secret. Got a car there, some guns and ammo. Comes in useful on occasion.” 

“Great minds think alike.” 

“Yeah. You’ll have to show me. Tell you what… come for a spin in the Triumph, and we’ll take in the sights.” 

“Hell of a nice car that, Bodie. No wonder they thought you were on the take. Where _did_ you get the money, anyway?” 

“Salted it away in the old days. Wasn’t in it for the money, not back then. Put most of it into a bank account. Retirement fund.” 

Lloyd looked at him for a long moment. “Won’t need it now, mate. Neither of us are going to reach fifty.” 

“Probably not.” Bodie walked Lloyd down to the car. Once the man was in the passenger seat, he said, “Tell me about the Redfern job. We have to sort out our story for tomorrow.”

Lloyd started talking and Bodie hid a smile as he listened to all the detail he was giving, almost as if the agent knew that he was dictating a full report for Cowley. “So when did you realise that I was behind it all?” Lloyd finished. 

Bodie decided to offer the man the truth. “Those three people you used for the hit. When we found their bodies it almost felt like _I’d_ killed them.” And then something that Bodie couldn’t believe, but Lloyd would. “You and me, we’re birds of a feather. Don’t know why it took me so long to realise.” 

“God, you’re the best there is, Bodie. Why _should_ you think of teaming up with me?” 

Bodie eyed him askance but Lloyd had turned to gaze out the side window. “No more false modesty,” Bodie said. “You’re damned good, and you know it. You wouldn’t be in CI5 if you weren’t.” 

“I used to pray that it would be like this,” Lloyd said softly. Then he cleared his throat and shot Bodie an embarrassed look. “Sorry. Bet you didn’t rave like this when you found a place for yourself in CI5.” 

“No, but it wasn’t the right place for me, was it?” Bodie replied lightly. “Not how it turned out, anyway.”

“What about Doyle?” 

“I’ll hoodwink him like you’ve hoodwinked Pennington, I suppose. Drive him crazy.” Bodie fell silent then, reflecting that he’d started _that_ task weeks ago. For a moment he had an insanely heart-breaking picture of Doyle standing over Bodie’s grave, hating himself for being fooled into mistrusting his partner. 

Then Lloyd was directing him down an alley and Bodie pulled up outside a boat shed on the river. 

“This is it. Home away from home.” 

Bodie followed Lloyd around, a guided tour of the unlicensed guns, the plans and maps, the motorbike, the ammunition, the box of grenades stashed away under the floorboards. When he could have sworn that Lloyd wasn’t looking, Bodie palmed an electronic bug and fixed it in the shadows underneath a shelf. Unprepared for Lloyd’s blow to his face, Bodie was sent reeling into the nearest corner. His foot caught in a tool box, and he went down hard, cracking his head, looking up to find himself at the wrong end of Lloyd’s gun. 

“You god-damned bastard. I should have known you were setting me up. High and mighty Bodie teaming up with _me?_ How could I have been stupid enough to believe you?” 

“Because you wanted to,” Bodie said, cooler than he felt. 

Lloyd let out a groan. “Because I wanted to,” he echoed, sounding disgusted with himself. “For one moment, I thought that I finally had it all. Why didn’t you just put a bullet through me, and I would never have known any better.” 

“Not my style, Lloyd. And you don’t deserve that much compassion.” 

“Well, it’s _my_ style. Should have done the job properly the first time.” 

“Easier all round that way,” Bodie agreed. “But why did you try to shoot me back then? I hadn’t realised it was you at that stage.” 

“But you were getting close. I tipped off the arms dealer just to get a shot at you in the confusion.” 

“Sorry I ducked,” Bodie muttered sarcastically. 

“You will be,” Lloyd promised. “But first you tell me what you’ve been up to. There’s a tape recorder in the Triumph? And you bugged my apartment and the car? Easily fixed. I think… you overdid it in the Triumph and had a nasty accident. The tapes went up in flames when the petrol tank exploded.” 

“You couldn’t manage all that without my cooperation,” Bodie sneered. 

“Crap. Your death-wish is all the cooperation I need. You must be crazy to have come here alone. Or has Doyle been tailing us all along?”

“If he had been, he’d have burst in here by now, wouldn’t he?” Bodie said quickly. “He doesn’t have the first idea about this.” 

“Liar. You were lying to me from the start.” 

“It’s true they suspected me. I was on my own. I had to get proof it wasn’t me before I went back to them.” Bodie let out an exasperated groan as Lloyd remained sceptical. “I don’t care if you kill me, you’re right. But I didn’t tell Doyle or Cowley about this. It won’t do you any good to kill them as well.” 

“Fucking idiot, that’s what you are.” 

“No – too smart for you. If both Doyle and I die or disappear, a solicitor has instructions to give certain information to Cowley and the Home Secretary. There’s more than just these tapes I’m making now. If you only kill me, the solicitor won’t do anything. I’ll leave it up to you to cover your tracks. But if you stay in CI5, Cowley’s going to twig to you sooner or later.” 

Lloyd stared at him for a while. “You’re lying to protect your precious bloody partner, aren’t you? You must really be nuts to think I’d believe that little story. Then again, I was stupid enough to think I’d taken Doyle’s place, wasn’t I?” 

Bodie shifted a little, easing his head back against the wall in an attempt to stop it throbbing. “You were good, Lloyd,” he said conversationally. “Why wasn’t that enough for you?” 

“Because it wasn’t enough for anyone else,” Lloyd cried out. “No one wanted me, no matter how good I was. You were the same, weren’t you? Until you found Cowley and Doyle.” 

“But I believed in myself when no one else did.” 

“Some of us aren’t lucky enough to have such a convincing ego,” Lloyd said sarcastically. “You know you really –” 

The door crashed open and Doyle leapt through it, gun tracking immediately to Lloyd as he saw him aiming at Bodie. 

“About time you got here,” said Bodie, although he was a hell of a lot more surprised than Lloyd. 

“You like to make it difficult, don’t you? Not telling me what’s going on in the first place, then driving that bloody Triumph of yours at full throttle all the way here. Lost you in the traffic, didn’t I, despite it being two on a Tuesday morning.” 

“Well, you’re here now. Stop complaining and shoot the bastard.” 

“Thought _you_ might want to do that,” Doyle said. 

“If you hadn’t noticed, I’m unarmed.” 

“Bloody idiot,” Doyle muttered. 

“Shut up, the pair of you,” Lloyd said. “Doyle, I’ll give you five seconds to drop the gun and sit down next to Bodie. If you don’t, I’ll kill him. One.” 

“You don’t care that then I’d kill you?” 

“Two. At this stage, no. Three,” Lloyd said. 

“Good,” Doyle replied, and shot at Lloyd’s right shoulder. As Lloyd took the impact, Bodie staggered to his feet and grabbed the gun from him. He backed away and coolly levelled it at Lloyd’s heart. Doyle was silent. 

“Cuff him, Ray,” Bodie finally said. “He’s not worth the bother.” 

“Your third chance to kill him,” Doyle observed. “Thought you’d take it.”

“No… someone else can take the responsibility for him. He’s ruined enough of my life.” And Bodie responded to Doyle’s heartfelt grin for the first time in weeks. 

♦

“Well?” Cowley strode inthrough his office door. “It had better be good to wake me up at this hour of the morning for.” 

Doyle looked at his boss from where he was slouched against the opposite wall. “Got the guy who was breaching security, sir.” 

Cowley’s eyes automatically snapped for a moment to Bodie, who was sitting slumped in a chair, face hidden in one hand. Then he impatiently asked Doyle, “Well, who was it?” 

“Lloyd, sir. Bodie’s got tapes of a conversation they had where Lloyd admitted everything. He set up the Redfern assassination himself. That wasn’t simply a leak of information. And there’s more.” 

“Bodie can’t speak for himself?” 

“He’s sulking, sir.” 

“He should know better than that.” Cowley walked to his desk and started to sort through Bodie’s report, the tapes, and various plans and maps that Doyle had taken at random from Lloyd’s place. “Bodie should also have known better than to act the way he has been over the past few weeks.” 

“But if he wasn’t such a big kid, we wouldn’t love him so much,” Doyle observed facetiously. 

Cowley looked up at Doyle over the frame of his glasses. “Quite,” he agreed drily. “And where’s Lloyd now?” 

“Interrogation Room C, sir. Cuffed. Murphy’s keeping an eye on him.” 

“And Pennington?” 

“On his way in. I didn’t tell him why. I’d say he’s been as ignorant of Lloyd’s moonlighting as you and I were, sir. Don’t be too hard on him.” 

“All right, Doyle.” 

“Why make an exception for Penn?” Bodie burst out sarcastically. “Why not try and convict him right now? The circumstantial evidence is overwhelming.” 

“That’s enough, Bodie. If you won’t admit that you were acting suspiciously, then you don’t belong on the squad.” 

“Damn you –” 

Doyle interrupted his partner, walking over to sit him down again. “Lloyd would have killed Bodie tonight if I hadn’t arrived in time, more by luck than good management. And Bodie couldn’t have got any evidence for you if he hadn’t put himself in that kind of danger.” 

Cowley looked up and took off his glasses. “That is both the dedication and the result that I expect from my best pair of agents.” 

Bodie blinked in surprise, seemingly unsure of whether he could be that easily defused or not. In the silence, Doyle said, “If that’s all for now, sir…” 

“Yes, go and get some sleep. I’ll expect you both in again by nine. In the meantime, I’ll talk to Lloyd and Pennington myself.” 

“Yes, sir,” Doyle agreed. 

They were halfway out of the door when Cowley’s voice reached them. “Bodie, I’ve heard that you are widely reputed to be my favourite agent.” 

“Have you, sir?” Bodie asked indifferently. 

“You wouldn’t by any chance have spread that rumour yourself, would you?” 

Bodie relented and shot his boss a cheeky grin. “Of course I did, sir.” And he pushed Doyle into the corridor, pulling the door shut behind them before Cowley could reply. “You been telling tales, Ray?” 

_“Me,_ mate? Never.” Doyle laughed. “Actually, it looks like that knock on the head did you the world of good.” And he was chased down the hall to the lifts. “It’s good to have you back, Bodie,” he said once he’d let the man catch up to him. 

Bodie didn’t even pause. “It’s good to _be_ back, sunshine.” 

♦

“Good Lord,” Doyle said as his eyes adjusted to the Red Lion’s gloom. “Don’t tell me that that’s your Amanda. She’s not just incredibly damn classy… she’s beautiful.” 

“Isn’t she just?” Bodie laughed and walked up to where Amanda was perched on a bar stool. “Hello, love.” And Bodie kissed her, long and hard. 

“Hello, Bodie,” Amanda was able to reply a few minutes later. She was smiling as if she’d never be able to stop, but she still looked Bodie over with a frown. “You’re really all right?” 

“I promise I’m really all right. It’s all over now.” He grinned wolfishly. “Until the next time, of course.” 

Doyle was leaning against the bar, watching all this. “You going to introduce me, Bodie?” 

“This is the man you can thank for saving my life, sweetheart. But you mustn’t pay him any attention, because he wants to shatter your illusions about me.” 

“Ray Doyle.” He held out his hand and she shook it firmly. “It’s a real pleasure.” 

“Amanda Payten. And thank you _very_ much. “ 

“No need to thank me. It’s on my duty statement. I don’t get paid if I don’t save Bodie’s life on a regular basis.” 

“That’s enough!” Bodie said. “Ray, be a mate and go buy us a round of drinks. Leave her illusions intact for a few more minutes.” 

Doyle laughingly obliged. 

“There’s one good thing that’s come from all this,” Bodie continued to Amanda. “Cowley’s giving me a week’s leave from the seventeenth. Subject to Doyle needing his life saved at the last minute, of course.” 

“Sounds interesting… What do you have planned?” 

“I thought we might pretend to elope to Venice.” 

“How could a girl turn down a proposal like that?” 

“Quite honestly, I have no idea. But give it your best shot if you feel so inclined.” 

“Of course I won’t turn you down, you great idiot,” she said fondly. 

Doyle came back with glasses and a bottle of champagne, just in time to hear Bodie’s longsuffering complaint. “One of these days, someone’s going to call me an idiot once too often, and I’m going to start believing them.” 

♦

**Author's Note:**

>  **Notes:** If you'd like to know how Bodie met Amanda, I've now posted my fic “Amanda” - which is a prequel, though I wrote it some while afterwards. The fics each stand alone and can be read in any order.


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